Cover of White
by Sunruner
Summary: The world is Black and White. Good and Evil. Right and Wrong. Those who are Good are Pure and Rightous, those who oppose them are Evil and Tainted, Beyond reason. At least... that was what they were always led to believe...
1. Prologue

**I'm posting with little intent to update quickly (however, update I shall) because I'm sick of confusing myself whenever I open my _'in progress'_ file on my drives and see a completed prologue staring me in the face. I'm actually mid-way through the first (next) chapter while posting this.**

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**Cover of White **

"Losing the others was difficult, but this? This is too much." She wasn't listening, not closely at least. There was nothing interesting to watch outside, but aside from the small candle sitting next to her bed, the bubbled glass in the sanctum wall was the only other source of light.

"We'll call him back- force him if we have to. I'll get the troops ready to go _immediately_ with the summons."

"He's going to answer for this." Ugh…

"Who; Felix?" She had to ask, she knew the answer, but spoke up anyways. Her voice had recovered quickly- a throat worn raw by the cold air and snow from the difficult return to the village. She was still bed-ridden however- they both were. Her partner was in a different room though, and she looked up into the Chief's eyes expectantly.

"Of _course_ Felix." Puelle responded, clenching and unclenching his hands in aggravation. Oh; how sweet, he was trying to keep in his temper controlled around her. "You can't expect Prox to take this lying down, do you? I let that scoundrel Isaac go without punishment in exchange for what they did at the Lighthouse, but to have my charity and gratitude returned with only lies and deceit-! I can't just-"

"Yes you can." She cut in. The pillows behind her head and back had grown flat from being leaned on, her arms wrapped in layers of herb-soaked gauze so she couldn't move to adjust them. He marched forwards, green robes whispering against the stone floor, and did it for her without asking. She just moved to make things easier before settling back down. "Won't you sit?" She offered.

"No." He answered shortly, stepping back again and folding his hands together high over his chest. The black dredges of his hair framed the strong angles of his tinted face, piercing red eyes staring down at her from under thick black brows. "And no, I can't."

"Forget it? I don't see why not."

"There's principle at stake here!"

"I thought it was a matter of honour." She added heat to the last word as he lifted one fist threateningly towards her. He wouldn't dare- they didn't get along, and he'd taken shots to _'discipline'_ her as a child, but he wouldn't dare strike her now or again. He flexed his hand several times and lowered it, but his eyes were flashing brilliantly.

"You should be the _last_ person to forgive him."

"Just hearing you say that makes me want to do it all the more- not that he needs forgiveness."

"He's a heartless murderer!" Puelle's eyes flashed again, small whisks of red energy lacing around his irate form as he towered over her bedside. "He came waltzing back through the village and told us all that you were dead! That a dragon- _a__** dragon!**__-_ of all things, had defeated the both of you. Pah!" He whirled away from her, facing the window and placing one hand on the sill, the other at his belt and showing her the sharp, angered lines of his profile. She resisted the urge not to roll her eyes at him, but it was hard.

"Uncle-"

"No, _you_ listen, Karst!" She blinked as he rounded right back on her again, the threads of psynergy in his aura becoming bristled and clearly defined. It wasn't just his temper then, it was real anger and she found herself without words as he let the heat run his tongue for him.

"Magic was worked in that place; I know that, you've already told me about the influence the Stone of Sages held in Mars Lighthouse. But it doesn't excuse him! There was no guilt in him upon his return to Prox! Not one sigh or parting glance- I watched him! He lied to everyone about dragon attack and used it to buoy himself up in the public eye- disgusting!"

"I don't see how sending soldiers after him is supposed to make things any better." She argued, not really knowing how to approach him, but wanting to deflate the idea if she could. It didn't work though; he'd already made up his mind.

"They'll find him, and then bring him back to face justice here in Prox, that's what it'll do. It'll make at least some amends. I'll never forgive him for this, but if it keeps the rest of the villagers from looking down on Vale then it's the best choice. Relations are bad enough as is…" He ran one hand back through his dread-locked hair, puffing out his cheeks and dropping down into the wooden chair he'd left empty and cold this whole time.

"You look exhausted… Are you really sure this's worth it?" His sharp look told her to hold her tongue, but she boorishly pushed on. "Why don't you just let me get up and speak to everyone? I'm not mad the same way you are- not yet!" He'd opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him down quick and sharp.

"Not yet." She repeated, wishing her arms weren't too sore to gesture with to reaffirm her point. "I was there, you weren't. I spoke to him, you didn't. Just leave it be- Do you have any idea what marching into the centre of Vale would do to your precious _relations?_ It'd be a hell of a lot worse than some small resentment festering up here."

"I'd rather have Vale cowering than Prox rotting- don't argue!" They kept cutting one another off, but he barked back at her exactly the same way she had a few minutes before. But this time she couldn't think of a comment to rebuke him with, and he finally offered a coy, triumphant smirk.

"I will journey south with a small group of soldiers." He purred, and she found her jaw clenched tightly. "You and Agatio have earned your rest, leave things now to those of us who could do nothing but watch the firing from afar."

He swirled to his feet- it was the only way to properly describe it. Robes billowing around him and swaying majestically as if he really _had_ won something. Her teeth were locked so hard her head began to hurt, never mind her jaw.

"I'm going too." She grunted, causing him to freeze with his hand on the brass doorknob. He twisted his head back over his shoulder, just enough for her to make out one crimson eye.

"…What?"

"You heard me."

"Karst-"

"Shut up." Sore, sore, sore. Every muscle was still tender, bones brittle. It was hard to even lift the covers of the bed, swinging her legs over the side was enough to leave her breathless, and standing just-

"Lay down!" Now it was _her_ turn to feel triumphant. There was an edge of worry in his voice, and his hands on her weren't as rough as they might've been a few minutes earlier. He was still gruff, still ominous, but as he put her back to bed and made sure the blankets were all well and up around her chin, he was shaken.

"I'm going with you." She said again, watching the conflict in his eyes before closing her own. She did feel tired… "Either I travel with you and the soldiers to Vale, or I follow you on my own. You can avoid all of this if you just drop it. Then again…" It was her turn for the coy, shamless smile.

"You didn't like my mother too much anyways, why should you care if I kill myself traveling cross country?" The words themselves weren't chosen very carefully, but the overall effect was a barbed comment which hit and stuck. Karst didn't even have to open her eyes to see the glow of red which leapt up around his form, or feel the callous heat in his gaze.

She was very lucky she knew him so well; anyone less familiar might've been suddenly frightened for their own life. Not health- life.

"Do not speak of what you don't know."

"Likewise, Uncle." She opened her eyes, looking straight up to see an alien expression stretched across his salamander skin. Not angered, not content, no peace or rest or even strong conviction. It was almost unnerving to see him skittish, even if it was only for such a brief moment before he spoke.

"I'm taking soldiers to Vale, and bringing him back here."

"And I'm going with you."

"Only once you've recovered." Oh no, he wasn't going to try and catch her in a conditional… she wasn't a child anymore.

"I go when the men leave, or I do it alone." Conflict. Frustration, anger, irritation… worry.

"Not even with Agatio?"

"I can't speak for him, but I'll make sure to ask." She felt tired… "I go when you go."

He nodded silently, and left. Apart from the Elder, no one else in Prox could force him to compromise. Saturos once could, and Menardi when she tried… but those days felt like a very long time ago…

_'It's snowing…' _

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"You have been brought before this council indicted on several accounts. Trespassing on sacred grounds, Conspiracy, Reckless Endangerment, Desecration of sacred grounds, Obstruction of Justice, as well as three counts of Theft, and Two counts of Kidnapping."

"If you are found guilty of these assorted offenses, the combined penalties range from Penance, Incarceration, Exile, or Death."

"How do you plea?"**

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**Similar to another story I posted a few days ago, I'd advise that if you liked this Prologue, please just add it to alerts and then casually check back in... a couple months. School phails at writing.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Dum dee dum. Very slow, but here.**

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**Cover of White**

Chapter One

The walls of Vale's new stone sanctum echoed the sound of Jenna's hard-soled boots as she clacked along. Red wool pants tucked into the white of her boots, a sash of brown tied around her hip like an apron or skirt off to the side. Her top was ornamented with embroidery and made of the same red material as the pants. Wooden bangles on her wrists, a bronze clasp holding her dark hair back, her station in Vale didn't really have a name yet, but it was obviously high.

Most of the hard, laborious work in reconstructing Vale had already been completed, an amazing feat for such a short amount of time. Otherwise, she still would've been clothed in the rough garbs of the village, the sort made for taking splinters and scuffs and dirt- nothing fancy or fine.

Finery seemed to be all that was left for Vale now, aesthetic needs were the focus of everyone's attentions- or at least they ought to've been. Weaving cloth for curtains, softer bedding, table clothes, upholsteries, laces and ornate garments like her own were what everyone was busy with. Potter's wheels were spinning out vases for flowers and drink, wood carved into window sills and curved frames for doors. The focus was less on rebuilding now, and more on reclaiming the feeling of having homes and places to belong again.

But what ought to have been the sole focus of everyone was not so. She was furious, frustrated, and admittedly, even on the brink of tears. Her thoughts were focused on keeping her vision clear, hiding her wheezing breaths, and avoiding any and everyone she could until she found the one person she was looking for.

This was supposed to be a time of new beginnings, of acceptance and reunion. The world was supposed to begin to heal now. There were legends, yes, of a power which could tear all of Weyard asunder, but it couldn't possibly have reached them already, could it? It was only a year unleashed- not even Alchemy could turn men's minds from forgiveness to punishment that fast!

She reached one of the Sanctum's side exits, the sun shining brilliantly down through the sparse canopy of new trees. The sudden light flashed into her eyes enough to bring up tears, and once they were set loose, she came to a stop as the ones driven by emotion came surging up on the first set's heels.

"Damn it…" Jenna fisted one hand tightly in front of her, feeling her chest begin to ache before she finally let one sobbing breath out. Frustration, anger, fear, confusion. She was a mess, and it wasn't even her fault. Tossed up into emotions that wouldn't settle until something came along to straighten out this entire mess. She clenched her hand so hard she could feel her nails biting into her palm, heat racing down her limbs as she felt her cries weaken away. Instead, she clenched her jaw so tight her teeth could crack under the strain.

"Damn them!" There was a burst of energy as she slammed her fist into the wall next to her. Heat scored the ground, blackening the stone and marking it with fire- only it was more than that. The essence of her element, devoid of the oranges and yellows of normal fire, raw crimson with flecks of the barest gold instead.

She clamped down on the urge to scream as she startled herself with the power, face tear-stained as she stopped and stared silently at the black scar left on the rock face. There would be very little question as to who had done it, but, composing herself again, Jenna silently promised that anyone who asked _'why' _had better be willing to take the same strike to the face.

It spurred her on at least, knowing that she was disturbed enough to tap the new levels of her power. Only one other person in Vale could command the heart of Mars like that, and he was exactly who she wanted to speak with.

The houses of Vale had each been rebuilt, some larger than before, others smaller. The geography had changed drastically with the destruction of Mnt. Aleph- as if the sinking of the mountain had been like a pebble dropped in a clear pond. Instead of the one steep climb from plain to mountain, for miles around the epicenter the ground was rolled, broken, and uneven. Building on the new terrain had been tricky, but not impossible.

Jenna made a literal bee-line for the largest of these newly reconstructed homes. Many people had been at the Sanctum today, though not all had managed to come inside where Jenna had been. Certainly not to the same levels she'd forced herself down too. Enough time had passed however since the spectacle they'd all gone to see had ended. Paperwork had been completed, plans discussed, even if the shock still hadn't set in yet, she knew that the ringmaster of this horrible turn had gone home by now.

She resisted –if just barely- the urge to put her aching fist through the Mayor's door. It was hard to knock lightly, harder still to wait as long as they made her. In the short time though, Jenna almost thought she could feel something freezing up inside of her. The anger faded, and the rush of emotion numbed and settled. Not enough for peace, but too much to remain irate.

"Is your brother here?" She didn't even spare a hello for Kay as the older woman answered the door. She was only blinked at and then silently admitted.

There were about two years or so between the two of them, Kay and Jenna. The older one's hair was a vibrant red, yet immaculately straight and held back by a wide white headband. Her eyes weren't as dark as Jenna's, and at first glance she was always thought to be a very timid girl, innocent in appearance though her temper was one of the most renown. She was wearing a short-sleeved, red-wool country dress, now with a white apron and bare of the shawl she had sported earlier in the day when at the Sanctum with her family. It felt like Kay couldn't look her directly in the eye though… She knew why.

"Jenna…"

"Is Garet here, Kay?" She asked again, watching her friend silently close the door as she came inside. Jenna didn't make to sit, or Kay to offer anything. Her mother and grandmother could be heard working silently in the kitchen, only the sounds of shuffling footsteps and rustling utensils gave them away down the hall.

"Out back." She went, passing her host without another word. There would be no playing at formality today. Jenna marched right through the Mayor's house, not sparing a glance towards the other women who silenced and bent harshly over their baking as she passed them on her way outside.

She'd expected to find him hacking away at a pile of split wood, or treating himself to a bit of lunch as it was getting on past mid-day. But sitting silently under one of the few full-grown trees surprised her. Just sitting, and staring up at the sky.

He was still wearing the fine white and mock-gold-trimmed tunic from earlier. Light doeskin leggings, and more mock-gold edging the expensive white-leather of his boots. The sunlight wasn't in his eyes directly, but they looked glazed to her as she stepped up to him across the sun-baked grass. His mouth was set in a grim line, perhaps the only reason she kept her peace.

Blessedly, he spoke first. But there was nothing jovial or lighthearted about him. Was that a blessing or a curse?

"My Grandfather made me Deputy." She'd thought it a random branch between his hands as he sat their, arms hooked over his knees. It was an easy, reclined position, and she watched the sunlight as it lit up the bleached surface of the carved baton he held. It looked like the cross-piece to a scale, a symbol of justice and weighted truths.

She made herself relax, tried to smile.

"Then, this means you can get them to drop the charges." He dropped his head, eyes closed.

"No…"

"Yes you can!" She pushed, fisting her hands again as she took a half-step closer. Her vision was going blurry again, her chest starting to ache.

"If you're a Deputy, then that means you've got a position in the courts now. You can talk to them and make them see reason- drop the charges!"

"Jenna, I can't!" She felt herself freeze, just stop moving. She wasn't afraid of him as he quickly swung himself up to his feet, eyes closed and turned away from her anyways. It was more like walking in a dream. He was holding the baton so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

"They can't just drop the charges now that they've been set." He said quietly, trying to explain what she'd already heard said, both by her father and by others that day in the sanctum.

"Then why've they been pressed?" She asked weakly, dropping her hands next to her sides, but keeping them in tight fists. Her one hand throbbing painfully after the abuse it had already taken.

"I don't… Jenna, don't ask for things like that." He said, interrupting himself and causing her to look up at him in surprise. He wasn't looking at her, his eyes downcast, slanted to the side at nothing at all.

"I'm a member of the court now; you can't ask me things like that." There hadn't been a wall between them before, but she could practically feel the stones locking into place now.

"Garet…" She said softly, "Garet, he's my only brother… He's_ your friend_…"

"I'm not abandoning him, Jenna." He cut in quickly, finally meeting her eyes. He lifted his free hand to point at her, making sure he was understood as he spoke. "I'm not turning my back on anyone. Things haven't even begun yet, nothing's certain. Just because he's being charged doesn't mean anything's going to happen to him. Let things run their course." He said it with conviction, but in his eyes, she could see the doubt already beginning to gather.

"I can guarantee him a fair trial, Jenna. Nothing more." With that, her heart sank. She didn't know what else she'd expected. Reality was harsh and she hated suddenly facing it like this. He was the Grandson of the Mayor, but that didn't mean he could twist the courts to his bidding. These charges were a joke, the punishments overblown. But…

"A fair trial for a guilty man still only ends one way…"

"Jenna, I'm sorry."

"I know. It's not your fault." She turned and left.

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"How long'll it take to prep the ship for a voyage, Piers?"

"Do you think we'll really need it?" Ivan looked unsure, causing the Mariner to run one hand back through his cerulean hair.

"Two days, one if we really rush it." Stepping forward to the map the two of them were pouring over, Ivan had a piece of parchment next to him, a list of names forming swiftly in black ink.

"How many do we have now?" He asked calmly, watching as the blond boy held up the page, blowing the ink dry as his violet eyes scanned the writing.

"First there's Hamma, then we've got Susa from Izumo, the Madran Mayor, Moapa of the Shamans, Lunpa the Noble Thief- do you really think he and King Hydros would be willing to leave Lemuria?" The skepticism wasn't appreciated, but Piers understood Ivan's reasons for asking.

"I can't say for sure, but it can't hurt to try bringing him into things. We might even be able to look north..?" If Ivan was skeptical of Lemurian aid, the flat look at the mention of Proxian help was deadpan. But then he sighed.

"This'd be impossible without the Lapis, but I guess we can give it a shot, right?" The sound of the Inn door slamming open was enough to make both of them jump, and it was a close call as Ivan nearly spilt the entire inkwell over the map with his start.

Turning to look, they'd been working steadily in the Valean Inn's main common room, commandeering one of the tables and with a few empty tankards and plates of food showing how long they'd been at this. They'd left the Sanctum before most of the crowd had picked itself up, and had been here working ever since.

"Sheba, Mia." Piers was relieved for a moment as the two women came stalking into the building. At least, until he noticed they were stomping and scowling- an expression strange to Mia's pale round face, and voiding any mischievous glint in Sheba's green eyes. His heart fell a little, and he felt himself already beginning to frown.

"Here, take a seat." He offered quickly, hearing Ivan shuffle with the papers and writing utensils as he cleared some of their mess away for the girls to sit. Mia took the first chair and settled herself with icy indifference, the pure white of her robes reminded him of the snow she'd grown up around. But Sheba in her thistle and magenta skirts completely refused and took up a stance near the Inn window, glowering out through the sunny glass. He shared a brief look with Ivan.

"They refused." Mia said coldly, Piers blinked.

"Excuse me?" He hooked his thumbs into the thick belt he wore around his waist, not to intimidate, simply to have something to do with his hands. Sheba's sharp glance in his direction seemed to analyze his tone before she broke in.

"You heard her. They refused." Kicking one doe-hide boot against the wall in front of her while leaning on the sill, Piers was almost positive he was seeing small white sparks flying off Sheba as she spoke.

"As in, on a condition?" Ivan asked, a stirring of temper in his voice which Piers could understand- but only if what he thought was true.

"No, Ivan." Sheba returned sharply, rounding on him quickly with a dark look etched across her face. "They **refused**. The council won't give over the Teleport Lapis. Nor will they let us take the Lash pebble, Burst Brooch, _Hover Jade, Force Orb- __**nothing!**_" Her last words were shouted, but they knew she wasn't mad at them for anything. It was common frustration, and Piers felt his jaw beginning to ache before he made himself stop gritting his teeth silently.

"We were the ones who brought those stones back to Vale." He said quietly, and Mia turned her head to him in a way that sucked the warmth from the air around them. Or was he the one doing that? Never mind.

"We told them that. Trust us; we tried everything short of force or humiliating ourselves."

"The hearings begin in three days." At Sheba's words, Piers felt his neck and back go sword-straight, eyes widening in muted outrage before Ivan leapt to his feet and spared him an outburst.

"_Three days!?_" The blond shouted, gathering the attention of the few other villagers grabbing a pint or ordering food across the room. There were several white cracks around Ivan's head as he stood stooped over the table, hands bracing him over the maps as he wore his emerald tunic and violet sash like an outraged monarch.

"That's not even enough time to reach _Kalay_ and back!"

"It would take three days just to convince half of these people to come and defend him…" Piers could see his own breath as he hissed the words, and it wasn't his imagination to see frost gathering around the legs of Mia's chair. Forget frustration, this was outrage, outright insult, and they were each feeling it on the same level.

"Who else knows this?" He spoke over Ivan's furious muttering; the other adept turning away and holding his anger in on his own. Again, Mia answered him, Sheba looked to be on the edge of tears or a tantrum and he couldn't blame her for either reaction.

"All of the court officials, so that counts Garet." Garet had a position in the court? Or did she just mean his connection to his Grandfather, the head Judge? "I'm not sure about Isaac, but Felix certainly…" He closed his eyes, letting out a rough sigh.

"Which means Jenna will…"

"Jenna will what?" He didn't jump this time, but at least his anger had begun to subside. He had one hand over his face, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he heard Jenna walking up behind him, she stopped a few feet away though, his back to her as she was undoubtedly able to feel the coldness around them all.

"Jenna…" Sheba's voice was quiet, quieter than he might've expected. She came up and quickly passed him, and Piers turned to watch the brunette accept and return the embrace her friend offered. The Mars adept looked pale, and very distraught. He wondered for a moment how much she might've cried already, but dismissed it as being too morbid.

"Jenna, what's wrong with your hand?" Mia rose and quickly glided past him as well, Ivan finally turning around again with a hallowed look across his face. Piers could only frown in acknowledgment.

"Oh, nothing… I just-"

"Lost control it seems, here, let me see it."

"Control? I'm not the only one…" He fetched the chair Mia had vacated, bringing it around so Jenna could sink into it, which she did with clear exhaustion. There was a sparkle of white and blue around her hand before Mia let go of the bruised limb, and Sheba sank down on the floor to rest her head on the older girl's knee.

"Have you seen your parents yet since this morning?" He asked, trying to be ginger with the topic, but not abrasive. She looked at him with exhaustion in her red eyes though, and he felt bad for the attempt.

"They were down in the… the cell… They were still with him when I left." Jenna reached up with one hand and wiped her nose back and forth once on her sleeve. Mia was quick to pull out a kerchief and offer it up as she continued.

"Did you know Garet's a deputy in the court now? I don't know what to think of it… What about you guys? You're bothered by something- I mean, we're all bothered. But still, something's wrong? More bad news?" Dabbing frequently with the kerchief around her nose and eyes, Piers didn't want to have to say anything, feeling deep sympathy for the younger woman. Sheba's eyes were closed, head still on Jenna's lap, and Mia moved to put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. Piers had to turn away, walking back to the table and noting the black lines already scratched across important names, and slashing away at the rudimentary itinerary that had been put together for an expected several weeks of travel. Ivan had worked quickly to dismiss the information; elbows on the table, his fingers threaded together, holding up his head as he stared blankly down at the pages.

"We... we'll think of something..." They had too.

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**You-Know-Who next chapter. **


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